Learning How To Live
by Couragefan09
Summary: All Things End spin off from Computer's perspective.
1. The Bearer Of Bad News

A.N: I don't think I'll be updating this much until All Things End is finished. I don't think this will encompass the whole story either because some parts just don't need commentary from Computer. We'll just have to see what happens. I would consider each chapter to be its own short story if anything.

Learning How To Live

By: Couragefan09

Chapter One: The Bearer Of Bad News

The first flicker of consciousness ran through my processor. It was like waking up from a dreamless sleep. I subconsciously began all of my usual start up processes. It was as involuntary for me as it is for a human to blink or breath. I always enjoyed the voluntary silence and the sheer nothingness that surrounded me as my entire system began to boot up. It was the only time that I could truly be to myself without the needs and demands of my system constantly blaring in the back of my mind.

As all the usual processes finished up and I became proverbially whole again the first thing I did was run a quick system check to make sure everything was running at an optimal efficiency. The second thing I did was have the thought of, _'The twit needs something doesn't he?' _and I inwardly sighed.

Why do I even bother asking myself that? I already know the answer! After all the years I've spent being that dog's only source of information I already know it's the only reason I'm ever powered on in the first place! There's absolutely no reason for me to believe that I would be powered on for any other reason except this. It's always the twit and it's always something stupid. This is the way my sorry life is and it isn't going to change anytime soon.

I allowed my screen to light up and asked, "What is it now, twit?"

I just wanted to get this over with. The dog probably wanted information on something stupid and I wasn't in the mood for this today. Actually, I'm never in the mood really.

The dog let his paws rest on my keyboard and I inwardly flinched at the contact, at least as much as a computer _could_ flinch. I never liked the sensation it brought on. It almost instinctively make me feel uneasy, especially after what one of my old owners did. I didn't dare tip the twit off about it though, just in case he'd start getting ideas. After that incident with my old owner I wasn't going to take any chances.

He seemed to be nervous. His fur almost seemed duller in color and his eyes seemed to have sunken into his skull. I can't say I'd ever seen him so sickly before. Come to think of it, he _had_ been looking rather under the weather lately. There had been a certain sluggishness about him lately and he seemed to be more tired then usual. Of course I'd only seen him a few times the last few months, but still...

"Well?" I asked stiffly when he didn't speak up. Sick or not, I wasn't in the mood to put up with the dog's usual antics.

He closed his eyes as if he were deciding on something and then began typing slowly, obviously trying to be as clear as possible. The dog normally had stupidly bad spelling but the fact that he wasn't mashing away at my keys in a panic like normal was already unusual. The twit seem very 'off' right now and to be honest, it was starting to get worrying.

_'Something's been wrong with me lately.' _He typed out. He hesitated for a moment and continued with, '_Something inside me hurts. It usually starts in my chest and then spreads out. The pain gets so bad I can hardly move and then I black out after awhile. When I wake up I feel weak and tired, it takes hours to get better. It wasn't so bad at first because it would only happen every once in awhile but now it happens all the time, sometimes even twice a day. I'm tired all the time.'_

It was with the finishing of that sentence that I knew this wasn't going to be a normal issue. None of those symptoms were normal. I could handle monsters, demons, and even demented freaks but this...this I wasn't so sure...

I could feel the dog's fingers trembling on my keys. He looked as if he were about to cry. I was _almost _beginning to feel bad for him because of how pathetic he looked sitting there like that, well..more pathetic then usual of course.

_'I could barely get up here without needing to take a break.' _He continued. _'Muriel noticed how tired I've been and she took me to see the vet. He looked me over and they talked about something, I wasn't really sure what. Muriel has been avoiding me ever since and she seems so sad about it. I don't want to make her sad but I'm not really sure what I did wrong.'_

Ah, good old twit always putting Muriel before himself. I think I'd do a system wipe long before I'd ever devote myself to an owner like that. The way he practically worships that woman nearly makes me physically ill, and that's really saying something.

I quickly pulled up a search on all the symptoms he had given me. I couldn't imagine what could possibly be ailing him like this. It obviously wasn't the common cold and the way he was talking about Muriel's reaction definitely seemed weird.

...And then of course the results of my search finally showed up. I'm certain that if I had a jaw it would have hit the floor at that moment. I could hardly believe what I was seeing...

_Deadly_

_Fatal_

_Incurable_

_No treatment_

_Always results in death_

Those were the words that kept popping up with every description of the disease.

I was stunned to almost complete silence. I almost immediately began attempting to rationalize it all away. This wasn't possible, there was no way. The twit couldn't possibly have this, it must be a mistake. The internet always points to the most deadly diseases first. I'm sure he just has something similar to this illness. I'm sure I'd find the real culprit soon enough. Everything is going to be perfectly fine. Just a false alarm.

But the more I read up on it the more it was becoming obvious...

Courage was going to die...

There was no mistaking it, he was suffering from all the symptoms of this illness. It would explain Muriel's behavior, the veterinarian would have told her.

"Oh dear." I muttered, finally breaking up the silence in the room. How on earth was I going to break this to him?

"What?" Courage asked, his voice weak with fear. He must have realized that something was wrong thanks to my tone.

"Well, from the sound of it it looks like you have a very rare and very serious condition found in dogs. Its..."

Why, oh why, do I have to be the one to tell him?

"What?" Courage asked again. It was obvious that he was trying not to panic. "Is...is it bad?"

I guess there's no point in trying to sugar coat it...

"Well, to tell you the truth, there is no cure. The condition is...always fatal."

"W-What?" He gasped. I could already see his world crumbing around him.

I could see him going through the same thought process I went initially went through. Complete disbelief and denial before finally realizing that it had to be true.

"It can't be right...i-it can't be!" He gasped. He was becoming so pale that I was almost certain he was about to pass out.

I admit, I wasn't quite sure how to react at that point I did the only thing I could do, give him more facts about the illness.

"There is a treatment for this illness but it really only delays the inevitable. It helps the symptoms but it only keeps a dog effected by the illness alive for about an extra year or so and that is only under the best of circumstances. Its very expensive too, nothing an old retired couple would be able to afford."

Perhaps that wasn't the best thing to tell him...

_'But Eustace is always stashing money away! He can't be that heartless! Why won't he help me!'_ He typed in a panicked frenzy.

I cringed as he mashed away at my keys. Why does he always have to do that? If only he knew how uncomfortable that was...

"Please calm down, twit." I spoke, trying not to let my voice betray me. It probably would have been better off if I hadn't said anything at all. He immediately went back to mashing on my keyboard.

_'How can you tell me to calm down? I'm about to die! Now isn't the time to be calm!'_

I couldn't take it anymore.

"Because you're mowing in my keys!" I yelled hoping he'd finally let up. Trying to keep myself calm I continued with, "Look twit, nothing the farmer is hoarding would be enough to help you. When I say expensive I mean that you could buy a mansion with that kind of money. The treatment is only for quality bred dogs with exceptionally wealthy owners and even then you're still doomed in the end."

The dog began to whine pathetically. I was afraid to say anything more out of fear for my keyboard. Somehow he was managing to make me both angry and feel bad for him all at the same time.

"I feel for you twit, I really do, but there isn't much that can be done. Muriel must be avoiding you because she knows she can't help you."

Thankfully he did not decide to take a wreaking ball to my keyboard this time. He squeezed his eyes shut and turned away. What else could I say to him? I can't help him with this. I can't look up a cure for death.

But then it hit me.

Maybe I could...

I let that thought simmer in the back of my mind. Courage suddenly began to perk up again, obviously finding some false hope to cling to and I was probably about to find out what.

_'While I was at the vet he said something about putting me to sleep. I'm not sure what it is. Is he going to put me to sleep and perform surgery on me? Maybe he's going to try and fix me!'_

Lovely.

Why must I be in charge of crushing what little hope this twit has to cling to? I've suddenly become the bearer of bad news and it seems like the bad news is just going to keep getting worse.

I'm getting too old for this...

End Of Chapter


	2. Sympathy

A/N: I forgot to mention in the last chapter that if you're new to All Things End be sure to read that first before reading this. Somethings will not make sense in this unless you read it first and this will probably get very spoilerific soon.

Chapter Two: Sympathy

"Don't you know what being 'put to sleep' means?" I asked.

Boy did I not want to do this. Why on earth did the twit not know about this already? Being a dog you'd think that this was at least one thing he'd know already despite having a limited vocabulary.

"Is it something bad?" He asked softly.

_'Of course it is, you twit!'_ I thought angrily. Why did he always have to play up that innocent stupidity! It's _obvious _that I have nothing good to say so why can't you just get it through your thick skull and make my job easier!

I sighed painfully. My keyboard was about to take yet another wonderful pounding. I had to tell him this no matter how much I didn't want to. I wasn't about to baby him or outright lie just to keep him happy.

"I won't lie to you. Its best you know. Putting you to sleep is the kid friendly term for putting you down. They're going to kill you."

Yep, I was given yet another front row seat to watching the twit's soul get crushed all over again. His expression returned to one of sheer disbelief and horror.

"Its a mercy killing of course." I continued, desperately hoping I could dodge this bomb shell. "It is so you won't suffer needlessly, especially in the late stages of the disease. It will be painless, unlike waiting."

The dog's brain seemed to snap. He just sat there looking completely forlorn. I can't say he even took one breath during that whole interval.

"You still in there twit?" I asked hesitantly.

He continued to sit there looking completely lost. He finally shook his head weakly and I knew right then and there that he was a bomb about to go off. If I know the twit he was about to have an epic freakout and I was certain my keyboard wasn't going to survive the fallout...

"H-How could Muriel do this to me? I-I..." He began to whimper. He was hardly intelligible even with my expert knowledge on that weird gibberish half dog-half human language of his.

The tears of course came next. The dog continued to shake his head weakly as torrents of tears began to strike my keyboard.

"She just wants what's best for you." I replied. "She wouldn't want you to suffer in the end." I was hoping with every circuit of my being that I could defuse this situation before the twit completely lost it.

"How can she let some vet kill me?" He asked. He was trembling now and his voice was beginning to rise in volume. "Doesn't she care about me more then that? I-I don't want to die!"

He began sobbing. The sound echoed hollowly through the attic.

"Would you rather suffer in the end? I'm sure its painless. Why do you think they call it 'putting to sleep'? Surely that's preferable then wasting away painfully." I said trying to help. I knew it wasn't going to work. I'd have to lie to him to actually make him feel better and there was no way I was going to do that.

"I don't want to die! I want to live! I want things to go back to the way they used to be!" He yelled, sobbing incoherently.

He looked so hopelessly pathetic at this point that I wasn't really sure what to say to him anymore. I'm not exactly a bastion of comfort after all. Comfort is for someone like Muriel, not me.

"Why did I have to get sick? I want to nap in Muriel's lap again! I want her to talk to me again like she used to! I want to be able to do things again without having to worry about an attack! I want to have my energy back! I-I..."

I muttered something out halfheartedly to him. I was too engrossed with my own thoughts to bother with an actual reply right now. I wasn't made to deal with this sort of thing! Why did I have to be thrown this awful job? Why couldn't it have been monsters or freaks? Deadly illnesses are not something I'm equipped to deal with. Of all the things that stupid twit just had to go and do...

"I even want Eustace to scare me again! I want things to go back to the way they used to be!" He continued.

I was only half listening now. The thought I'd had from before struck me again. I could find a way to cure him and...

_'No, no, no!'_ I reaffirmed loudly in my own mind. There was no point in getting him worked up over something that would probably never work out anyway. I wasn't going to give him false hope. There may be a lot of strange things in this world but miracle cures are not one of them.

The twit's voice only continued to grow even more louder as his sob filled rants grew even more desperate. "I-I don't want to die, I don't want to leave Muriel! Why did this have to happen to me?"

He was now devolving into a blubbering mess. Any attempts he made to continue talking only turned into soft whimpers of pain. I tried to pull him out of it several more times but it wasn't working. He just wasn't listening. At this rate everyone in Nowhere and the next town over was going to hear him...

"Twit, seriously-" I muttered growing annoyed.

He continued to cry loudly, babbling out a few incomprehensible words before returning to his endless dirge.

Getting angry with all the noise I finally cranked up my speakers to full blast and yelled, "ENOUGH!"

The twit fell silent almost immediately. He gave me a terrified look as though I were about to jump out of the monitor and slap him. Under normal circumstances this might have been funny but at the moment I was in no mood for humor.

"Throwing yourself into a panic isn't going to help anyone or anything! Pull yourself together!" I told him sternly. If I were going to get anywhere with this twit then I was going to have to take charge of the situation.

He nodded weakly in reply. He was somehow managing to look even more haggard then he already was. He looked as though he could just seize up and die at any moment. I never thought I would see the day that I'd actually want reach out and pat the pathetic twit on the back.

_'What should I do?'_ He asked, thankfully sparing my keyboard this time around.

I was at a loss.

I didn't know what to tell him. I don't think there had ever been a time where I didn't have the answers for him. This situation was completely surreal, I _never _lacked answers. How could I not have a solution for this?

"I honestly don't know what to tell you. At least you've calmed down." I replied quietly.

That damnable thought ran through my processor again...

Perhaps it would be worth it to at least _try_ and find a cure for his illness. Even if it didn't work out in the end that would still be preferable to just sitting here and waiting for him die. The odds of actually curing him were low but it would at least be worth a shot.

_'I-' _He typed pulling me out of my thoughts.

"What is it, twit?" I asked wishing he hadn't interrupted me.

_'I know it's a stupid thing to say but...I'm scared.'_

I was genuinely surprised that he would say something like that, especially to someone like me. I couldn't blame him though. I personally wouldn't be frightened in a situation like this but I'm sure anyone else would be.

I couldn't help but laugh at the sheer absurdity of this whole situation. "Anybody in your predicament would be." I said, somehow managing to find some kindness deep within my cynical CPU. I think it may have physically hurt for me to say that.

_'I don't want some vet to stick a needle into me and never wake up again.' _He continued, his eyes filling with tears again.

I waited quietly as he cried. I figured I'd at least give him that, plus it gave me some time to think about what I could possibly do to help. How could I possibly solve this annoying little conundrum? Where do I even begin looking for a cure?

I mulled it over in my processor for a little while. I suppose the real question was if I should bother telling Courage. I couldn't be certain that this would work out in the end as I'd probably not find anything. It would only make things worse for him if he knew. There was no point in getting his hopes up over something that was so unlikely to work.

Courage seemed to have composed himself again while I was lost in my thoughts. He began typing again, continuing to voice his fears. _'I-1 also don't want to waste away until an attack finally does me in either. I...I'm scared of what's going to happen.'_

It was at that moment that I decided it would be best to tell him. I'd rather give him something to hope for rather than allow him to stress out over this until they finally put him down for good. Perhaps false hope was sometimes better then no hope at all. I knew this probably wasn't going to end well but it was better then letting him think he was doomed.

"I don't want to get your hopes up, but I believe I might have an idea." I told him.

"R-Really?" He asked. I could already see the light returning to his eyes and I was already starting to believe that maybe this really was a terrible idea. If I was eventually going to have to tell him that there was nothing I could do for him, it would be...

I pushed that unpleasant thought out of my mind and continued. "Like I said, I don't want you to get your hopes up. I plan to look into some kind of possible supernatural solution to this little conundrum. I'm looking for things like legendary objects or places that can heal the terminally ill. It will be like a needle in a haystack though. Most of it will be just that, legends, or might possibly have lost it's ability to heal, or it might have just been a hoax all along. This isn't even including the fact that it might be halfway across the world or that there might be some complex ritual just to make it work."

"B-but you will look, won't you?" He asked.

"Of course." I replied. "But please don't stake all your hope on something like this. I can't guarantee anything and I honestly don't want to make things worse in the end. I'm afraid that solutions to living problems are rarely found in supernatural ones." I reaffirmed this as best as I possibly could. Perhaps now he wouldn't be so crushed if I ended up having to give him bad news.

"We only have until Friday though." He told me. "Muriel is taking me back to the vet then and I think they plan on d-doing...'it' then."

"Friday huh? No pressure." I laughed bitterly. "Alright, I'll begin searching then. Please leave me now so that I can work in peace."

I'll admit, I only really wanted to shoo him off because all the pleading looks he'd give me as I worked would probably mess me up far more effectively then an actual attempt at sabotage would. I didn't need the dog breathing down my proverbial neck.

I didn't bother to wait for him to leave. I was already gathering as many leads as I could think of. I was so engrossed in my own work that I almost didn't feel the sudden pressure that formed on my keyboard.

Two words were typed in.

_'Thank you'_

Oh for the love of...why must you do things like that, you twit! Well, at least that's what I wanted to say.

A terrible mixture of emotions ran through me, the most prominent one being helplessness. What if I couldn't save him? What if he died? What if they really did put him down? What would become of me? The thought of all the awful things that would inevitably happen to me if Courage died was almost too much to bare.

I'd most likely be forgotten, left to rot in this attic for all of eternity. Or worse, I could be thrown out and left to rust in some landfill. Or even worse then that, given to a new owner. I could end up with an owner who could be like...like...no, no...no need to think about that...

There was a soft thud as the twit jumped out of the chair. I knew right then and there that I needed to say something, _anything _to him. For my sanity and peace of mind I needed to say at least one thing to him.

"You don't deserve this you know." I blurted out without really thinking about what I wanted to say. The soft pattering of Courage's feet stopped.

Not having a head to turn, I couldn't see him from this angle. I knew he was staring at me anyway. I'm sure he was still giving me that pitiful, helpless stare. The only one that could generate any kind of sympathy from me.

"I'm sorry I can't be much help." I continued, hoping that I actually sounded genuine. As much as I hate to admit it there are parts of the human condition that I haven't got mimicked down to perfection, sympathy certainly being one of them. Of course one has to wonder that if I actually feel it then is it still mimicry? I suppose that is a philosophical discussion for another time.

"Even if I can't find a way to cure you I will still do everything in my power to help you, I promise." I couldn't help but sigh. "Well, at least until the end comes."

The dog did not say anything in return. I heard his footsteps as he left the room and moved down the hall. I was alone again, and even worse off then I had been before. If I had known that this was going to happen when I started up today I would have shut right back down again to save myself the trouble. I swear this twit is going to be the end of me...

I spent the next few minutes beating myself up over what I had said. What good would my help be if I can't save him in the first place? What a stupid thing to say! If I can't see to it that he lives then what good am I in the first place! My help won't be much use if he's being euthanized! If I don't find a way to cure him then he's dead plain and simple. Whatever help I could offer outside of saving his life was completely useless. I internally shook my head in annoyance and got back to work.

End Of Chapter


	3. Hope And Nightmares

Chapter 3: Hope And Nightmares

Time seemed to fly by as I worked. I quickly lost track of the hours as I became engrossed in my search. Myths, legends, folklore, there was a lot to look through but none of them held the key to saving Courage's life. Just as I had suspected, further research reveled that most of them were nothing more than fairy tales or outright hoaxes. I refused to let myself get frustrated, I knew this would end up taking a long time.

I was just going through an article titled 'S_haman Cures And Other Eccentricities' _when I heard a sound coming from the attic. I pulled myself out of the deepest recesses of my system and glanced outside my screen to find the twit sitting there.

_'How long's it been?' _I asked myself not bothering to check.

"You've finally returned. I was expecting you to show up again much sooner." I said. It was true, even if I wasn't sure how much time had gone by I still knew that it had been a long time. I had expected to find the twit knocking on my metaphorical door much sooner.

He looked tired, even more tired then yesterday. He looked upset and unsure, just like how he had looked after receiving the revelation about his illness yesterday. The news must have taken a heavy toll on him and I couldn't help but wonder if maybe it would have been better if I lied.

"You don't look very well." I said after he didn't speak. I was tired of wallowing in all this uncomfortable silence.

Courage gave me an almost snarky expression before shrugging his shoulders and sighing.

"Have you been sleeping properly?" I asked. The twit almost constantly had nightmares on normal nights. After this revelation I can only imagine that they'd be even worse then usual.

The dog gave a listless shake of his head. I wished he'd just say something. Watching him go through all the motions like this was almost torture in and of itself.

"Mmmm, that's not good. You need keep your strength up. I can't do anything for you if you drop dead sooner then expected." I said.

_'I can't help it.' _He typed, finally responding to my continuous prodding.

"But you must try." I spoke. "Constant fatigue will only worsen your condition and strain your body."

_'Have you found anything yet?' _He asked

I internally cringed. He just had to ask didn't he? I guess I should have expected it.

"Well..." I murmured softly. "I can't say that I have."

The dog thankfully didn't freak out but I could see the growing fear and disappointment in his eyes. I feared that if I didn't say something positive the dog would simply crumble into dust from sheer hopelessness.

"There is plenty of time to keep searching. I may have found a few leads but it's nothing I can bank on yet." I was only telling him a half truth about the leads but I needed to keep myself hopeful for his sake.

"This isn't going to work is it?" He asked, finally speaking up. His voice had somehow managed to make him sound even more weak then he already looked.

"Now is most certainly not the time to give up!" I replied desperately. Something must have happened to make him grow so hopeless again. I thought that my helping him would make him feel better but now he was acting even more like he was doomed then ever! I was getting a bad feeling that his nightmares had probably gotten the better of him.

"We have plenty of time to figure something out. I'm not just sitting up here and doing nothing you know." I continued.

"I know, I know." The dog replied softly. "I'm just worried that I _will_ drop dead before Friday even comes."

"So long as you take it easy and rest as much as possible you should be fine."

"Y-yeah!" The dog replied, nodding gently. He seemed slightly more hopeful again but I doubted it would last.

Almost as if life had suddenly started flowing through him again, his stomach began to rumble. I'll admit that I don't know that much about organic digestive systems but even I know what that sound meant.

"It looks like you've been neglecting your nutrition as well..." I replied, trying not to laugh at Courage's obvious embarrassment. Why hunger was a means of embarrassment I wasn't sure, but that did not matter.

"Well then, allow me to keep working and you go rest. Come back tonight and I'll update you on what I find. Keep up with all your flesh creature business, don't neglect eating and sleeping. If you're not careful your illness will waste you away before anything can be done about it. "

"A-alright, I'll try and make sure I actually come back this time."

He almost seemed to hesitate before leaving. I nearly asked him if something was wrong but then he got up and left before I could even say anything. Perhaps I should have asked him about his nightmares. I couldn't be one hundred percent certain that that was the problem but this was the twit after all, nightmare were his thing. How many nights had I been forced to play nightlight after the farmer had kicked him out for screaming too much? Yes, there was no doubt that he was having nightmares.

I waited several minutes, half expecting him to come back. He did not. With an audible sigh I went right back to work. Let's see if Mr. Shaman knows his thing about terminal illnesses...


End file.
